


Love, as we know it to be.

by yunnikakennings



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunnikakennings/pseuds/yunnikakennings
Summary: Fifteen year old Simon and Baz figuring out what love is. (mild angst, I'm not sure if you'd even find it angst at all)Well, I decided to continue this fic. I think it got a bit more angsty.I do actually have a few more chapters planned (which are even angstier) but I'm not sure if I'll write them since there is time constraint.Ah well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello again ahaha, so I writing fanfic instead of studying for my exams oops ><  
> but it's short anyway  
> I do hope you'll enjoy it though! ^^

**Baz**

Is this what it is? The thing the world obsesses over and prescribes in those awful sappy young adult novels and romance flicks? Love.

Eyes wide in the dark when they should be closed.

Heart thumping wildly in the silence, wearing away at an aching chest and whirring mind.

If this is what it is then he doesn’t want it.

Fifteen years old and plagued with vampirism, he doesn’t need this extra burden to bear-to weigh down on his shoulders.

He huffs a laugh-derisive and short.

Love.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. It _shouldn’t_.

It never has.

Simon was a boy. Same as him.

Broad shoulders. Tawny skin.

It couldn’t be. It _couldn’t_.

It _isn’t_ , he insists in the dark.

I’ll get over it, like I get over everything else. It’s a phase. Whatever it is that they always say.

It’ll go away.

Love.

It shouldn’t be.

**Simon**

Is this what it is? A boy and a girl setting off for their journey together hand in hand against setting sun? Love.

Eyes wide with surprise as she leans in and presses her lips to his, they’re soft and smell of the strawberry lip gloss she loves (she got it from her Normal friend as a Christmas gift).

Heart thumping wildly at the fear of screwing it up, mind tearing itself apart with worry.

If this is what it is then he doesn’t want it, not exactly, it stresses him out-but he should.

Fifteen years old and named The Chosen One, this is his destiny, it’s endgame.

He tries to laugh.

Love.

It must be. It _must_.

It always has been.

Agatha is a beautiful girl. Perfect for him.

Pale blonde hair. Large brown eyes.

It can be. It _can_ be.

It _is_ , he repeats firmly, to himself.

I do love her. And even if I don’t now, I will in future. We’ll be happy together. Marriage and children. A happy family.

After all, it’s the best he has so far. Tossed between various orphanages ever since he was old enough to remember, no one has quite loved him.

Love.

It should be. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends, I'm back with a short chapter hahaha  
> (I didn't actually plan to continue this but the idea popped up so I though "well, why not?")  
> anyway, hope you enjoy!

**Baz**

 

Marriage.

I suppose this is it then.

 

Another day to capture in a photograph- it’s no matter whether or not the smile is real so long as you convince the guests. It’s no matter or not whether or not you’re gay so long as you marry a woman, so long as you produce an heir.

 

You do what you please, Basilton.

“You do whatever the hell you want, when you’ve fulfilled your responsibilities.”

At least that’s what he said. (My father, that is.)

 

She’s beautiful and empty- a perfect woman for my father. Smiling, with lips arched into a scarlet crescent, eyes glacier blue.

 

I look at her but all I see is a hapless parody of him, mocking me with a ring on her finger.

 

Sometimes, I wonder if maybe our child might look like a Simon Snow puppet.

Wouldn’t I love it?

 

We had Snapdragons as our wedding bouquet.

Well, after all, he said to do whatever the hell I pleased.

So I did.

 

 

**Simon**

Marriage.

I suppose this is it then.

 

The photographs caught it all- she’s beautiful and we love each other- surrounded by all our friends and families, it was the best day of my life.

A wife. A family.

I can’t believe I got this lucky.

 

“Simon, for the twenty-sixth time, stop asking me if it’s the right time to propose. You both marry if and whenever, you both please. There’s hardly a timetable set for you both.”

That’s what Penny huffed the night before I proposed to Agatha.

(I’m glad I did and relieved she- Agatha that is, said yes.)

 

She’s perfect- beautiful and elegant and poised, her lips tilting up into a kind smile, her eyes warm amber.

 

I look at her and I can finally imagine a future for us all, a couple with clambering kids and holidays and whatever it is that happy families are made of.

 

 

**Penny**

Sometimes I wonder if Simon is just puppet to whatever she pleases.

Would she love that?

 

They had roses at their wedding.

(I could already tell who chose the flowers.)

Well, then again, I told him to marry her if and when they pleased.

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!   
> please do leave constructive criticism if you'd like- I'd love to improve my writing ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, here's a short update  
> hope you enjoy (:  
> please do leave constructive criticism, there's always room for improvement, or feedback if you'd like ><

**Baz**

 

_Journal: 2 January_

Hearts like mine are like cigarettes.

Lit up with a spark for a couple of moments.

Torched with yearning, desire causing it to fold in on itself

And purge its toxic matter into

White ash and wispy puffs of smoke.

 

Hearts like mine are suffocating.

 

Hearts like mine hiss with the thrum of silence.

 

**Simon**

 

_Journal: 2 January_

 

Hearts like mine are caverns.

You can walk in with friends,

You can bring in a fire for warmth against the chill of the winter winds,

But there will always be echoes.

The memories always ricochet,

Bouncing of the stone walls

In murmurs and whispers.

 

Hearts like mine can never be filled.

 

Hearts like mine pulse with emptiness within.

**Author's Note:**

> do leave feedback if you'd like (:


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